Truth
by Jcaslcgaiwd
Summary: John, Sam, and Dean rescue Sherlock. (Blood and mentions of sexual abuse)


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Dean Winchester paced back and forth, running a hand through his hair. Sam sat at the table, tapping his knee nervously. John was just staring ahead, completely silent. This worried both of the Winchester brothers. Dean's phone rings and he grabs it, slamming the _accept call_ button.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dean!" An all-too-happy voice answers.

"I don't have time for your crap, Moriarty." Dean growls, rolling his eyes. He was getting impatient and even more anxious. The consulting criminal sighs, a bit sad and disappointed.

"You guys are no fun. Oh well, good thing I'm done with you all. Come to the little building on Carsan street, near the abandoned railroad. You'll find I'm there, but I have to warn you. He is a bit... fragile at the moment."

"We don't care, as long as we get our friend back!" Dean roars, hanging up. He runs his forehead, sick of all of this shit.

* * *

Dean goes first, gun in hand. Sam and John next. They search the building, until they find a locked room. It's too heavy to kick down, so Sam quickly picks the lock. Every second wasted was a second that their friend could be suffering. Or worse, dying. The door opens and the three step inside, guns pointed. No one is inside, except Sherlock.

He was tied to a chair, naked and bloody. Sam looks uncomfortable and Dean's hand shakeas slightly. John bites his lip to keep himself for yelling or crying. He runs to the unconscious detective, hitting his face lightly. Sherlock's eyes flutter open slowly and his face lights up when he sees John.

"John." He says weakly and in a horse, broken voice.

"Hey, Sher. Sam and Dean are here also." He gestures towards the two and they just stand there, unsure of what to do. "We are going to help you, but you need to cooperate and do what I tell you to. Okay?" Sherlock half-nods, that being all he could mange. John smile, taking that as a yes. Then he sinks into doctor mode.

"Dean, come over here and cut the rope on his wrists. Sam, get his ankles. We don't want the blood to stop circulating less than it has already." The two do so as John observes his friend's injuries. His face was bloody, a swollen eye, cuts on his arms and legs, no bones seem to be broken, and it seemed that victim may have been sexually abused.

The two Winchester brothers get the bonds off and Sam throw his coat off, giving it to the detective. It was too big on him, but it covered most of his body. John observes his wrists and ankles, noticing they are severely cut and bruised. It seems he's been like this for a few hours. Also a big, bloody bump was on the back of his head. John wouldn't be surprised if the man suffered from a concussion later.

He pulls his friend from the chair, laying him on the ground. He uses his jacket as a pillow. Sherlock shivers, considering the room was about forty something degrees. Dean gives the curly-haired man some water and he lays there, shivering and coughing. John runs his hands across Sherlock's torso, sadly finding that at least five ribs were broken. Luckily, none of his lungs appeared to be punctured.

"Hey, Sher, I need to look at your lower body. Below your waist, to be exact. It will only be for a minute so I can see how bad the damage is. Alright?" Sherlock nods, hiding his face into the pillow. "Dean, talk to him and make sure he stays awake." Dean nods in reply. If Sherlock had a concussion, falling asleep was something he most defiantly shouldn't do.

Dean whispers to him, talking about random stuff. Sam tends to his face and wrists with some water and his flannel. John looks and notices that the damage isn't too bad. It could be better, but it could also be worse. His gentiles were a but bruised, but no blood and nothing seemed to be broken or damage. Sherlock would most likely be just a bit sore for about a week. John fishes, standing up.

"Dean, can you carry him since you're about his height." Dean nods, slinging the detective's arm over his shoulder. Sam pushes the door open and they walk out. Sherlock groans, not wanting to be moved. They make it to the Imapala, laying Sherlock in the back seat with John.

Sam calls the hospital, telling them to be ready. They arrive and nurses and doctors rush out, pulling Sherlock out if the back seat gently. John holds onto his hand, until he can't anymore. He paces back and forth, running a hand through his hair. He gets a call later, saying they had caught Moriarty and he was in custody now.

John, Sam, and Dean are allowed to see Sherlock soon after. The detective was sleeping in the hospital bed, all stitched and bandaged up. The doctors had informed them that Sherlock was going to be just fine. This made them all sigh with relief. They don't bother with the detective, knowing the drugs will keep him asleep for quite a while. They go in the hallway, chatting quietly.

"Hey, you two okay?" John asks.

"Yeah, it's just what Moriarty did to him was a lot to take in." Sam answers with .

"Yeah, imagine if we had left him any longer."

"Good thing we didn't, Dean. He's fine, but he won't always be. No matter how bad he wants to."

"Ain't that the God damn truth." Dean jokes and they all laugh, just happy their friend had survived and was okay.

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**A/N: Awkward ending, but I ran out of ideas. Review and request, please!**


End file.
